


The darkest Night

by snowspriestess



Series: One Shots [7]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Nightmares, Visions, set somewhere in season 6, show canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 08:41:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11802498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowspriestess/pseuds/snowspriestess
Summary: The Long Night has come, and with it Melisandre's nightmares.





	The darkest Night

It was midday when he stopped in front of her door, hesitating a brief moment before knocking.

Jon had not seen Melisandre all day, he had been kept busy by the white walkers, now lingering closer to the wall. The nights grew darker, the cold more harsh and the snowfall seemed never ending. A darkness was spreading across the north, like a silent shadow eating away the light.

The men became more and more tired, always arguing and never content. The fightings were a regular thing by now, many nights he had to leave the wall and scare off the walkers from their gates. It was a scary time, dark and full of worry. The long night had begun, and the war for the dawn was at their doorsteps.

He knocked again, more urgent this time. He knew that Melisandre had been trouble sleeping and seeing and reading the fire, since the darkness spread across her light as well. Many nights she had been awake in silence, staring into the flames while hours passed and nothing happened. Afterwards she talked of death, destruction and the never ending cold and her eyes had shown something that seemed the opposite of hope.

Jon was tired of waiting, of standing in the cold air of the hallway waiting for her to react. He pushed the door open, entering without invitation. At this point, he did not quite care anymore.

As he had expected she was seated in front of the fire, red eyes bound to red flames. The reflection danced across her face, casting shadows on the wall.

She looked up as he came in, eyes clouded with fatigue and confusion. “What are you doing here?” Her voice sounded as tired as she seemed, from the looks of it she was barely able to keep her eyes open. Jon could not recall the last time she had rested.

“How long has it been since you slept?” he wanted to know, kneeling next to her chair.

She only shrugged. “I don't remember.”

He sighed. “Neither do I and that's not a good sign. You should rest.” He reached out to take her hand, only to realize how hot her skin felt. Even more than usual. He frowned in worry, softly stroking the skin of her face with his other hand. It was just as hot. “You're burning up”, he pointed out.

“Are you hitting on me?” she replied, actually looking quite amused.

He rolled his eyes. “I am saying that you are sick.”

She only shook her head, sitting up a bit straighter. “I am just fine. I'm always warm, you know that.”

“Not like this”, he disagreed. Arguing with her was tedious, he had more than enough experience by now. “And stop telling me that you're okay. You're tired, you need to sleep.”

There was silence for a few seconds, Melisandre seemed like she did not quite know what to say next. She bit her lip. “I can't see what is going to happen. The lord won't show me.” She looked at him and he saw the fear in her eyes. “I can't sleep until I know, I have to-”   
He interrupted her. “No, you don't. The world will be just fine without you for a few hours.” Slowly he stood up, approaching her further and bending down to her. He lifted her up from the chair without listening to her protest, simply carrying her out of the room.

“Someone will see”, she muttered as they were out in the hallway, but Jon simply shook his head and took the way to his room.

“Everyone is in the dining hall.”

Melisandre shot him an angry look, but he had the feeling that she was not quite as mad as she appeared to be. He knew her, after all.

She seemed to be half asleep already when he let her down on his bed, eyes only half opened. Still, she reached for his hand as he wanted to retreat. “If I sleep now, I am going to dream.” She sounded terrified, like a little child.

Her fingers hold onto his like he was the only thing saving her from drowning, from drifting away. Perhaps he was, in a way.

Sighing, he went down on his knees next to the bed. Their faces were on the same height.

Her skin was still burning hot, like the fires she read and the candles who stole his sleep. This room's air was cool, however, and almost dark apart from the little daylight which fell through the window.

“I'm here, okay? If you dream, I am going to be here.” That was all he could do, the only way he could help her. She had to carry her burden alone, sadly, he could not take it away from her. _Why did her god torture her so much? If he was the lord of light and love and life, why did she see such darkness in her dreams?_

He watched her drifting into sleep, eyes falling shut and hiding the terrors he saw in there. Carefully he let go of her hand, placing a light kiss on her fingers before moving to his side of the bed.

He hoped that she would be able to sleep for a few hours, before the horrors of her dreams found her, but he knew that she would not be that lucky. She seldom slept peacefully anymore, with memories and visions of death by ice and never ending darkness clouding her mind.

Deep inside, he was glad that she did not know the ending. Because in that ending, he might not be the savior and he did not want her to find out just yet.

He was not sure if she could take it, after all.

 


End file.
